Memories
by Graveygraves
Summary: Emily and Derek have a lot to come to terms with, but with a heartfelt promise and their memories they will face the future. Set post Series 6 Ep 18 Lauren. Beta'd please read and review.


**Memories**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This song is for Ilovetvalot, who requested, through FB, a story for the song ****'****Losing Your Memory****'**** by Ryan Star, Morgan/Prentiss as the pairing. This is post-ep for Lauren (Series 6 Ep 18).**

**Ilovetvalot, and her partner in crime tonnie2001969, does an amazing job of running the forum Chit Chat on Author****'****s Corner. Check it out for some great challenges, support and currently the nominations for this year****'****s Profiler****'****s Choice Awards. Visit the forum for more information.**

**. . .**

Emily hurt; she couldn't be more specific than that. Laying still ached, moving was excruciating, and anything else registered somewhere along the spectrum. So for the time being she lay there, with nothing to comfort her but the memories of everything she had waiting for her.

"Emily," JJ's soft voice came from over by the door.

"Jay," she smiled, finally glad to see someone other than a doctor or nurse.

JJ came to sit by her friend, Emily noticed straight away that she wasn't smiling; in fact she swore she could see the glisten of tears in her eyes.

"JJ, what's wrong?" Emily began, "I'll be okay; the doctors have said that he miraculously missed anything important. Though I'll be honest it hurts like hell, just the same."

"Emily," JJ's head dropped, unable to meet her friend's hopeful look, "the doctors are right, you will recover, but until you are fully recuperated we need to consider yours, and everyone else's, safety. It has been decided that, as things stand, you will go into hiding."

JJ paused, letting the information sink in. Looking up she could see the shock on Emily's face, quickly she turned to look out the window, watching the droplets of water trace a path down the pane.

"I can't, not alone, I need . . . "

"Emily, this order has come from above any pay grade I'm aware of. Hotch and I have tried to fight it, you know he is not keen on witness protection, but we can't. I suppose it makes sense. If Doyle thinks you are alive, no-one will be safe."

"_Thinks_ I'm alive," Emily screeched.

"We are faking your death," JJ said matter of fact.

"But I'm not dead!" Emily struggled to sit herself up, wanting to be on an even level with JJ.

"Emily Prentiss will be buried next week. You will be moved to another hospital as soon as the doctor gives the all clear. Once you are fit enough to leave hospital then you will be issued with new identities," JJ's professional demeanour took over, as she separated her emotions from her job.

"New identities? JJ I don't want this!"

"You don't have a choice! Taking things into your own hands has left an awful mess to clear up. We're doing the best we can."

"How is the team about this?" Emily asked tentatively.

"Other than Hotch and I, they all believe you are dead." JJ watched as her friend crumbled. Sitting on the side of the bed, JJ tried hard to hold the pieces together.

. . .

Sitting at the bar, Derek lifted his hand to silently signal for another drink. He knew he had had enough - to be honest he had hit that milestone a half hour previously, but right now he wasn't feeling it. The anger constantly swelling inside him was in blocking the impact of the alcohol on his system, though he was certain he would know about it in the morning.

Drinking alone was a dangerous past-time and one he rarely submitted to, but he could no longer face the company of his solemn friends. Their joint grief was consuming the team, and Derek needed out. He needed time in solitude to repair his battered defences and secure the battlements against any further onslaught. He had to be strong; it was his role in the team, the protector.

A role he had failed to fulfil for Emily. Failed miserably, he hadn't protected her from her demons. Which was why they had buried her, yesterday. In turn this led to his current position in a dull dingy bar; drinking to kill off the brain cells that stored the memory of the last image he has of Emily Prentiss.

. . .

Lying staring at the stark ceiling, Emily had finally managed to stop crying. How had she gotten herself in this mess? Exactly what point in her life was the catalyst for all of this?

Pressing the button in her hand, that controlled the painkillers the doctors had allowed her to self regulate, Emily wanted oblivion, a world away from the one she was currently in.

Left alone, isolation made a poor bed fellow.

. . .

Entering his empty house, Derek left the lights off, preferring the darkness. Set on the floor of the lounge, his head lolled back against the leather couch behind him. He was tired, correction, he was shattered. Physically and mentally.

Yet he couldn't shut his eyes, he wouldn't, refusing to let her return. Derek's memory was tormenting him. Keeping locked away the moments he treasured most, while letting his nightmares run a mock.

Fighting the drowsy feeling that was creeping over him, Derek didn't know how much longer he could survive on intermittent naps and extra strong coffee. He had hoped the alcohol he had consumed would clear the constantly running horror show in his head, but it hadn't.

Holding his head in his hands, engulfed in the haunting dark of the night, Derek wanted to cry, he wanted to grieve, he wanted to celebrate the good times and ignore the bad. His colleague, his partner, his friend – Emily Prentiss.

Alone he struggled to accept the truth as he had been told – Emily Prentiss was dead.

. . .

Tossing painfully in her drug induced sleep; Emily couldn't shake the memory of Derek finding her, begging him to let her go. If only he had held her longer, refusing to leave. He'd know she was alive and she knew he wouldn't rest until she was safe.

Each movement she made stabbed as deeply as Doyle had. The pain shooting through her, but she couldn't stop; she couldn't fight the images flooding her memory.

Waking with a start, as her mind flicked back to the moment Doyle had impaled her, holding onto her bandaged side, she let the tears flow once more.

. . .

As the sun rose, Derek stretched, every joint in him ached. Foolishly he hadn't moved from the spot he had picked last night.

Standing he headed for the kitchen, making himself a pot of coffee. His head beat a rhythm with more bass than any R&B tune he danced to.

Stepping outside, into the cool morning air, he breathed deeply. Looking up, the bright spring sunshine stung his eyes. Leaning against the door post, he sighed, promising himself that he would head to bed, soon.

Raising his eyes to the heavens he made one more promise, as the tears he had wished for finally fell:

"Emily, I promise I will find Doyle. Wherever the bastard may be, I will track him down and I will avenge you. I am so sorry I let you down. I shouldn't have backed off when you needed me most, I should have pushed. That's my fault, and as punishment I have to live with the knowledge that I could have prevented this. But I promise I will find him for you."

. . .

Emily begun to wonder which situation was worse: the one where she was awake and alone, or the one when she was asleep and back with him.

Either way she was in limbo, living a nightmare with no escape – her own personal purgatory.

Staring out of the small window her room had, Emily wanted to get up and open it, to breathe the fresh morning air. But right now the prospect of making such a movement sent a shiver down her spine.

Taking in the brilliant blue sky, with a smattering of white clouds, Emily made herself a promise: "When I am strong enough, I will find you Ian Doyle and I will end this. I will destroy you."

. . .

But until that time, all they had was their memories.

. . .

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_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

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